


It Makes Me Feel

by Aesoleucian



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5513051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesoleucian/pseuds/Aesoleucian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whirl gets her claws on a batch of protoforms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Makes Me Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Almost completely unedited, in celebration of the new MTMTE! Translations at the end if you're not feeling google translate.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Whirl asked, using her impressive height to peer over Brainstorm’s shoulder. “New gun? Please tell me new gun.”

Brainstorm drew his arms closer to his chest. Very suspicious. “Er, work in progress. Very hush-hush.” Whatever he was holding made a little whirring noise that pinged some important but long-disused routine in Whirl’s brain.

“That sound… that’s definitely not a gun. Unless your weapons have branched out into emotional warfare.”

“Well, you know me,” said Brainstorm, trying to sidle through a doorway. He knocked into the wall instead and Whirl could briefly see the small white form she’d been expecting.

“Here, you liar! That _is_ a protoform. You’re going to do some mad research on it! Give it here!”

Brainstorm clutched the protoform tighter, shaking his head. “ _You’re_ mad if you think I’m trusting you with a protoform. You’ll kill it inside of an hour!”

Well, no option left. She punched Brainstorm out—his wings crunched against the wall—and caught the protoform before it could fall. “Necessary. You wouldn’t know what to do with a protoform if it handed you an instruction manual, unless it was some horrible experimentation.” She looked down at the protoform, which was _very_ new still; no features yet, head barely separate from body. “You haven’t even grown a face yet. Where’d nasty Brainstorm pilfer you from? And more importantly, how many of your sisters has he pilfered?”

Whirl kicked Brainstorm through the open doorway to hide him for a bit, then set off for his office. Sure enough, there were three more protoforms sitting in a shallow dish on his desk. Whirl’s engine growled angrily. “What an awful slagging caretaker. Who leaves protoforms alone? You’ve got to be protected, haven’t you? You’re the future of Cybertron.” Or of the Lost Light, maybe. Same difference. When they sensed Whirl’s field two of the ones on Brainstorm’s desk started wriggling. She carefully set down the first one with them, and then very gently stroked them both with one claw. “Shh, shh. Safe now. Won’t let Brainstorm get his nasty hands on you again.” She picked up the dish, careful not to jostle them, and went back to her hab suite.

When she got there, she sat down and put them on her legs, because she liked how warm they were. And she put on _Le Petit Soldat_ , because it was educational. She stroked the protoforms idly as she watched. “Look at that,” she’d say every so often. “Ain’t life just the _worst_? But you’ll be strong enough to take it. And you’ll be strong enough to follow Whirl’s Rule #1: Don’t beat up prisoners. Unlike me.”

One of the protoforms (she was pretty confident that it was the one she’d knocked Brainstorm out for) blinked open a single red eye to look up at Whirl.

“You’re already my favorite,” Whirl told her. “I’m calling you Carmine. You’re the precocious one.” As if to protest, another one of the protoforms revealed two blue eyes, pointed toward the screen. “It’s not like making two eyes is harder, you know,” said Whirl. “You don’t get a prize. Well, you do, it’s a name. You’ll be… Climber. Until you’re old enough to demand a cooler name.” The next protoform (two yellow eyes) became Hi-Beams and the last one Dozer, by default, because she didn’t form a face until halfway through the film. She looked like Whirl.

Whirl didn’t want to sleep until they all had proper bodies, so she queued up all of Godard’s films and Rewind’s dumb Lost Light documentary. Some of this slag wasn’t even relevant but whatever. A wide knowledge of the human condition (surprisingly similar to the Cybertronian condition, especially the war bits) could only be good for the little bitlets.

Two films in, they were starting to grow legs and get restless. Whirl let them crawl off her lap and onto the recharge slab, exploring her claws and the little maze of clocks she set up for them. Climber seemed to have taken the hint from her name, because she was the best at it. Although it might be the binocular vision that gave her the advantage over Carmine and Dozer. “You have no excuse,” Whirl told Hi-Beams when she knocked over a tower of clocks. “You can see just fine.” Hi-Beams crawled over to Whirl’s claw and clung to it, so all was forgiven.

By the time the documentary was over, they had grown their first instar plating and were starting to think about verbal speech. Whirl was so proud of them. “What should we watch next?” she asked. It was more like talking to herself than anything else, because none of them actually knew the names of any films. “We could maybe do a more cheerful film…”

At that point there was a knock on the door. Whirl, who couldn’t get up with three protoforms sitting on her lap, transmitted _PASSWORD?_

She received, _You faker! You never made up a password. It’s Nautica, let me in._

Whirl opened the door remotely and Nautica walked in with Swerve (looking doubtful) in tow. “Stormy—Brainstorm—said you beat him up and took a bunch of his stuff. I came to investigate, and Swerve came along because she loves gossip.”

“His _stuff_?” said Whirl, offended. “These are _people_. I _rescued_ them from his lab, where he was doubtless planning who knows what morally grey experiments on them!”

“He said he was trying to work out how to keep them safe until he had a good excuse to tell Megatron,” said Nautica. “He wasn’t going to experiment on them.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” Whirl puffed out of her vents in smug self-righteousness. “Also, I kind of needed a reason to punch him. He’s very punchable.”

“No offense,” said Swerve, coming properly into the room, “but you are the last person I’d think should be raising protoforms. Ask anyone, they’d say you’d give them guns to play with or something.”

“Guns are for soldiers,” said Whirl. “I’m _hoping_ they’ll grow up a bit better than that.”

Carmine stood up to lean against Whirl’s side, hugging her. “Maman, qui sont ces personnes? Je crois que sont… 3-D.”

“Voici Nautica,” Whirl pointed to her. “Elle est très intelligent et élégant. Voila Swerve. Elle est propriétaire d’un bar.”

“Hey!” said Swerve. “I have other qualities!” Nautica giggled.

“But why does she speak French?” Nautica asked. “Only, it’s a rather strange first language to teach a Cybertronian protoform.”

“Technically she’s a Lost Light-ian protoform. And I didn’t teach her. Jean-Luc Godard did.”

“I don’t understand why you like his movies,” Swerve said. “They’re just depressing.”

“They’re also philosophically and existentially rewarding,” said Whirl. “My girls will grow up smart.”

“And depressed,” Swerve muttered. “Anyway, it looks like they’re pretty much settled into their alt modes. That one’s gonna be a four-wheeler—”

“J’suis Hi-Beams.”

“Did you come up with these names?”

“They’re wonderful names,” said Whirl. “This is Carmine, the lazy one over there is Dozer, and this one—” Whirl plucked the last protoform off her back—“is Climber. She clearly knows Cybertronian even if she doesn’t speak in it, ‘cos she decided climbing was her calling after I named her.”

“That’s wonderful!” said Nautica, clapping her hands together. “She looks like she’s going to be a jet!”

“And Dozer’s going to look just like me when she grows up,” said Whirl proudly. “I bet I can even convince her to match my paint colors.”

“Don’t,” said Swerve. “We have more than enough Whirls already.”

“Anyway,” said Whirl, “did you come to ask me to drinks?”

“No, we came to…” Nautica paused, and then smiled. “Oh! Yes. Let’s have drinks. Your bitlets can come too, get their first taste of energon.”

As they walked (slowly, to accommodate the protoforms’ little legs) Swerve said, “So, have you thought about where you’re getting their second instar plating? ‘Cos I’d be happy to make it. If I get creative freedom, of course.”

“Sure,” said Whirl. “But you only get as much creative freedom as they give you.” She looked fondly down at Dozer, who was holding onto her claw. “Just make sure it doesn’t have any guns on.”

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATION OF THE BABIES  
> “Guns are for soldiers,” said Whirl. “I’m hoping they’ll grow up a bit better than that.”
> 
> Carmine stood up to lean against Whirl’s side, hugging her. “Mama, who are these people? I think they're… 3-D.”
> 
> “This is Nautica,” Whirl pointed to her. “She's very smart and elegant. That's Swerve. She owns a bar.”
> 
> “Hey!” said Swerve. “I have other qualities!” Nautica giggled.


End file.
